A Valentine Riddle
by Ramblingnic
Summary: A young Tom Riddle finds enough humanity left in his heart to express it in a love note.   Will his true love ever return his feelings, or will it all go horribly wrong?


A stray hair fell over Tom's eyes as he scribbled at the blank parchment in his lap.

My Dearest Lucretia

Sweet Lucretia

Dear, sweet Lucretia

Each greeting seemed even more sickly sweet than the last, making his stomach sour and turn. Lucretia Black, the most beautiful girl in Slytherin, likely the most beautiful in the whole school, would barely even look at him. Tom was sure that it was just a minor oversight on her part. After all, he was a Prefect and in the Slug Club. It had to be pure bad luck, a bad luck that he had vowed to change, come hell or high water and preferably by Valentine's Day.

Finally the parchment was full of what Tom considered a more than decent proposal of affection. It was not too sweet or sappy and very clear of his expectations and what he was willing to offer; a very fine letter in his own estimation.

My Dear Lucretia,

You and your radiant beauty have captured my heart. I can think of nothing but you until the small hours of the morning, when even my dreams belong to you. I know that you are shy. I catch your eye and you look away, but I understand. If you feel the same let us exchange letters of love first. On Valentine's Day, leave a note for me behind the loose brick of the gatekeepers hut and I will know that our hearts may truly be one.

Yours always,

Tom Riddle

He sealed it up carefully with wax and awaited just the right opportunity. By the end of the day, it had become clear that such an opportunity was not just going to drop at his feet. Although they shared several classes, Tom never seemed to find a moment alone with Lucretia. Her friends seemed to form a persistent barrier and in the rare moment that he was able to catch her eye, she would look away. Certainly just shyness, he was sure.

Days passed with no success and Valentine's Day itself crept ever closer. It began to seem as though Lucretia was going to prove as elusive as the Chamber of Secrets that he had sought for so long. Just when it seemed like the last shreds of hope were slipping away, the moment came. Lucretia broke away from her friends and started in his direction. Her steps were hurried as she brushed past him.

"Lucretia…" he called, but she didn't respond. She disappeared inside the girl's washroom, the heavy door slamming behind her. Tom steeled himself and followed. He had never been inside the girl's lavatory before and for good reason. He was a Prefect. He was supposed to enforce the rules, not break them, but as far as he could see this was his one chance. He took the parchment from his pocket and slipped it under the locked cubicle door.

"For you," he whispered and hurried back out into the much more socially acceptable hallway.

Over the course of Valentine's Day, Tom received many cards, candies, trinkets… even a plush snake charmed to sing the Slytherin fight song (from a Hufflepuff, no less), but it was waiting for the end of classes that really caused butterflies in his stomach. The words "Class dismissed," had barely finished falling from Slughorn's lips before Tom was out the door and on his way to the groundskeepers hut. The brick pulled smoothly from its place in the wall and a folded piece of parchment fell into Tom's free hand. He scrambled to open it.

My most handsome Tom,

Happy Valentine's Day. Oh, how I wish I could spend it lost in your arms and in your eyes, but you are right, I am far too shy. If you truly wish to woo me, do it with your words. Speak not a word to me, but leave me messages of your passion here and I will know that your heart is true. Someday, my soul will find the courage to speak with you face to face, but for now my love, let our words express us.

Yours always,

Lucretia

Tom pressed the parchment up against his cheek, as though it were the hand of his true love. Sure, the letter was not what he had expected. Black ink was a poor substitute for blue eyes, but if that was what it was going to take, he could be patient.

As the days passed however, Tom's patience quickly started to wane. There Lucretia sat, in almost every class; so close yet so far away. For over two months her words sang from parchment she left, promising an affection he had never known and a passion he could scarcely imagine. She was actually quite risqué to tell the truth, but Tom hardly minded. From time to time, he would sneak away with one of his letters, hiding himself in the second floor girl's bathroom. He knew that there was always the chance of being caught, but he couldn't help it. Here was the place that her fingertips had first brushed against his letter, bringing them together. He lazed dreamy-eyed against the circle of porcelain sinks, reading the words over and over to himself. In his haze, it was far beyond his notice that the words escaped in Parseltongue.

"I knew in my heart that these letters would help us. If we could only open up to each…"

Suddenly, the ground beneath Tom's feet seemed to shiver and he was thrown away from the sink. He watched in awe as it began to shift in front of him, sinking into the floor and leaving a large exposed pipe in its place. His heart in his throat, Tom peered down into the depths.

"Hello…." He called down into the expanse.

"Helloooo, helllooooooo…." The echo returned his greeting. Looking around carefully, Tom shed his robes and prepared himself. At last he had found it. This would be his first journey into the long sought after Chamber of Secrets.

The following months flew by. Heartfelt letters from Lucretia were taken down into the Chamber to be read over and over, as Tom learned to control the creature within. It didn't take long to force it to do his will. As the one true heir, he alone could finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work. Soon, the school lived on a constant edge of fear and he, Tom Riddle, was the one to keep it there. He contemplated telling Lucretia of his work. Surely a girl with blood so pure would understand his mission. But How? And When?

Soon May was upon them, and little over 4 weeks separated his dream from the hash reality of another summer at the orphanage. The time had come. He decided instead that this would be the moment he had waited for; HIS moment. It was now or never. He put pen to parchment one last time, desperate to win his prize.

My dear Lucretia,

I want us to meet, face to face as you have promised me. We have come to know each other so well from our letters that I am even more sure of my love for you and hope that you are just as sure of me. Meet me in the second floor girl's bathroom at midnight.

Yours forever,

Tom

He arrived precisely at midnight, slipping quietly through the door and closing it behind him. The room was dark, but he could still make out a pair of feet showing beneath the cubicle door. His heart nearly burst out of his chest.

"Lucretia," he whispered. "It's me, Tom. Come out, please. You don't need to be shy with me."

The feet shuffled and a weak voice answered. "You promise that you won't laugh at me?"

"Laugh? Why would I laugh at you my dearest?" Tom approached the door and swung it open to reveal an unbelievable sight.

"Myrtle?"

Myrtle Henderson, the 'Reject of Ravenclaw' stood in the girl's cubicle where his Lucretia should have been, tightly grasping a lovenote in her sweaty hand.

"Myrtle what are you doing here? Did… did Lucretia send you?"

It made no sense, but then again neither did Myrtle Henderson standing right in front of him.

"It's ME Tom!," Myrtle exclaimed in her squeaky voice, grabbing at his shirt. "You gave the note to me. I thought perhaps… if you just knew who I really was. I wrote all of those letters, the one's you've been reading. I'm the one that you're in love with!"

He pulled back, repulsed.

"No, no, it… you can't be…" he cringed and stumbled toward the sinks. Myrtle just followed, pawing at him with her sweaty hands, leaving ink streaks on his white dress shirt. Backing him against the porcelain, she grabbed his cheeks, planting a sloppy kiss on his lips.

"It can't BE!" he screamed, forcing his eyes shut as he screamed in Parseltongue.

"Open up! GET HER! KILL!"

His eyes stayed shut as the familiar sound of the creature entered the room. Myrtle screamed for only a second before it all went quiet. It was only then that he viewed the scene in front of him. The Basilisk slithered silently back into the pipe. Myrtle's lifeless body lay on the floor.

As he stared at the body, Tom though to himself that a good cover story was definitely in order. Perhaps something about Hagrid… As Myrtle stared down at her own body from floating distance, she thought just the same thing. Such utter rejection would surely be the focus of unending ridicule. Peeves had been unbearable in life, she could only imagine what eternity would be like if he ever caught wind of this. Perhaps something about Olive Hornby . . .


End file.
